


inevitable, inevitable

by Anonymous



Series: angsty oneshots/short stories [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: But also not, Cancer, F/M, Fake Science, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hospitalization, Major Illness, Not Beta Read, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Surgery, Talks of Death, Terminal Illnesses, Vomiting, but also real science, just read the beginning note lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:46:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After being brought back from the dead, Peter is still struggling to adjust. With Tony distant, a host of disheartening physical symptoms, and a newfound knowledge of the impermanence of life, how could one expect him to? But when he falls sick, will Tony step up? Will Peter find the will to fight? Or will they both treat death as what it truly is- inevitable?
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: angsty oneshots/short stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728802
Comments: 20
Kudos: 191
Collections: Anonymous





	inevitable, inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE SEE THE END NOTE FOR A DISCLAIMER!!!!  
> *may contain spoilers*

After Peter was brought back, things were different. 

Coming back to such a different world was a rude awakening. Of course, his friends were all dusted, so they were able to pick up where they left off, but Peter still felt like a new student in the hallways of the school he once knew. The walls were a different color, and he had a new locker, and the curriculum had changed, so it was a lot to adjust to. 

Queens was different. Crime was at an all time high because people were still reeling from the doubling of the world’s population. Many people were rendered homeless and were turning to thievery to get what they needed. Others were just agitated, angry, or possibly afraid, and acted out on those emotions. Whatever the reason may be, being Spider-man was even harder. 

Another adjustment was the fact that his mentor had changed so vastly. He’d retired. He had a daughter now. Peter missed his and Pepper’s wedding. One would think that since they were finally reunited, they might have lab days more often, spend more time together. This was not the case. They barely saw each other at all, in fact. Tony barely answered his texts, either, and when he did his replies were halfhearted, at best.

Happy said Tony was just busy creating programs to help aid those who ‘blipped’. Peter wasn’t so sure. 

A small part of Peter’s mind told him that Tony was angry with him. Angry that he didn’t get the gauntlet off Thanos’ hand back on Titan. Angry that he stowed away on the ship in the first place. Angry that he allowed his mentor to lose his arm in the final battle. Peter knew it was irrational, but as time went on and Tony still ignored him most of the time, he believed it more and more. 

Another part of Peter’s brain was angry at the man. Believed that within the five years he’d been gone, Tony had moved on, forgotten about him. Was he really that easy to let go of?

Tony had moved back into the old Avengers Tower in Manhattan, since the compound was destroyed. It was easier for them to oversee relief projects and Stark Industries, and kept them more involved with their efforts than they would be out in the lake house. Peter and May had both blipped, so he helped them get situated in a new apartment. 

So there Peter was, going through the motions of daily life in a world that moved on without him. A world that kept turning without him in it. He’d never thought about how temporary his life was until he came back. The world went on without him- without Spider-man- and it was fine.

“Mr. Parker,” a teacher scolded. “Can you repeat back to me what I just said?”

Peter looked at the board, then back to the teacher, then back down to his desk. 

“Please pay attention,” the teacher continued. 

He zoned out again after she returned her attention to her lecture. He didn’t know what it was, but he was just so tired all the time now. Peter supposed he could be depressed, after everything that’s happened. It would explain why all he wanted to do was sleep. 

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and Peter was the first one out of class. He went into an alleyway and changed into his suit. 

“Hey, Karen,” he said. “Long time no chat. How are you?”

“I’m functioning well, thank you,” Karen replied. “How are you?”

“Fine as can be. Do you have anything for me?”

“A woman was robbed about two blocks from here. I have the perpetrator heading northbound on seventh.”

“Thanks, Karen!”

Peter swung off toward seventh street, following Karen’s directions until he saw the man. He was running at full speed, but even so, Peter caught up to him with ease. He landed in front of the man, who stopped in his tracks in front of him, a woman’s purse in his hand. 

“You know,” Peter said. “Judging by the rest of your look, I wouldn’t think you’d be into purses.” He webbed the man to a nearby wall, snatching the purse from his grasp. “I’m not one to judge though, but you do realize you could just buy one, right?”

Peter turned around and saw a woman running up to him. He opened the wallet in the bag and checked the ID, confirming that it was her purse. He handed it back to her and took off once more. 

“Peter,” Karen interjected. “You seem to be experiencing low blood pressure. To avoid falling, you should walk the rest of the way home and get something to drink on the way.”

He did feel lightheaded, like he was far away from his body. Nonetheless, he doubted he couldn’t make it home. He’d swung through worse. 

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

As he got closer, Peter began having trouble aiming his webshooters. His vision started getting blurrier and his heartbeat was thrumming loudly in his ears. 

“Peter, I suggest you...”

Karen’s voice faded out as the boy realized that his A.I. was right, that he needed to get on the ground before he fell. He decided to make his descent, but instead of gracefully landing, his webs missed a nearby building and he started to fall. The descent was disorientating in the state he was already in, and what with his rising heart rate, he could feel himself fading as he fell. 

Peter passed out before he even hit the ground.

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  


When he opened his eyes, Peter was met with one of the worst headaches of his life. Luckily, the lights in the medbay were turned down enough that he could open his eyes and look around without exacerbating his migraine. Peter eventually laid his eyes on Tony, who was sitting in a chair next to his bed with a laptop resting on his thighs. The man finally looked over and saw Peter was awake. 

Tony closed his laptop and leaned forward. 

“What the hell happened out there?” He said it softly, thank goodness, but there was an edge to his voice that made Peter’s stomach clench. 

“I dunno,” Peter whispered, because he didn’t. He didn’t know what happened, what caused him to pass out. “Fell, I guess.”

“No,” Tony said. “Your suit said you passed out. What happened?”

Peter drew his eyebrows together. How was he supposed to know? It wasn’t like he did it on purpose. Of course, Tony wouldn’t like that answer. 

“I guess I haven’t been getting enough sleep,” he settled on. “I probably got tired or something.”

Tony let out a sigh and wiped his non-prosthetic hand down his face. “Seriously?” He was obviously having trouble keeping his voice soft. “Peter, I had to run out on an important shareholder’s meeting to get you.”

“I’m sorry, I-“ Peter cut himself off. “Okay, you know what? You obviously have way more important places to be than here.”

Tony’s eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”

“Just go,” Peter said. “Just... I’ll be fine. Just go.”

Tony did leave after that, and Peter lay his head back against his pillow, staring at the ceiling. 

Some time later, Peter ripped out his IV and left the Medbay without saying a word to anyone. He put his mask back on and swung home, only minor dizzy spells hitting him if he swung too carelessly. He finally got home and collapsed on his bed, vision darkening around the edges. 

He never told May about what happened, because she was at work the whole time he was gone. Apparently Tony never told her either, because she didn’t mention anything when she came home. They went through the rest of their evening like it was any other normal day. 

Peter promised himself he’d start getting more sleep, taking better care of himself. He couldn’t let himself pass out like that again, not when it meant that Tony had to come get him and leave even more tension between them. He started cutting off patrol earlier, eating healthier meals, going to bed earlier. 

As time went on, Peter thought he would start to feel better. He thought he’d be less tired, less achey, and more alert. He was, in fact, the complete opposite of those things. He slept hours at a time, yet still felt sleep deprived all day. He suffered even more in class, which was dismaying considering the exams creeping up on him. His body ached more and more, like he was constantly recovering from running a marathon. 

One Saturday, when he was still far too tired to have slept as much as he did, Peter went on patrol for the first time in days. He couldn’t put it off any longer, as crime didn’t take breaks when he did and people were starting to ask where Spider-man had gone.

Peter found himself swinging all over the city once again, this time panting and sweating right off the bat. 

“Your vitals are concerning, Peter,” Karen pointed out. 

“It’s fine,” he snapped in reply. “ _ I’m _ fine.”

“I’m programmed by the Babysitter Protocol to contact Mr. Stark if I deem it necessary,” she said. 

“The baby- of course,” Peter muttered. “I probably just need a snack or something. I’ll get one as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“If you don’t turn to go home within the next thirty seconds, I will have to execute the Babysitter Protocol and contact-“

“Karen, I swear, I’m fine. Don’t-“

“Twenty seconds.”

“God- Karen!”

“Ten seconds.”

“Just let me go around this block one more time-“

“Calling Tony Stark.”

Peter landed on a nearby building and stumbled as the call went through, falling on his behind. The floor was wavy and he couldn’t get back on his feet for fear of falling back over. 

“Peter,” Tony greeted. “What’d you get yourself into this time? Did you get tired again?”

The boy couldn’t respond for a moment as nausea built in his stomach all the way up to his throat. He swallowed bile and closed his eyes, laying back on the roof. 

“Pete? Are you seriously ignoring me right now?”

“No,” he managed. 

“Then what the hell is going on?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I don’t know why Karen called you.”

“Yeah, probably because your heart rate is way out of range.”

“You don’t need to come-“

“Already here,” Tony said. 

There was a loud clink as the Iron Man suit landed on the roof several feet away from Peter. The mask retracted and the boy hurried to stand. 

“You still behind on sleep,” Tony asked. 

Peter looked down. “Nothing a Red Bull can’t fix.”

“Well, then,” Tony scoffed. “It’s no wonder why your heart rate is so-“

“No,” Peter interrupted. “You don’t get to ignore me for weeks and then show up here telling me what to do. This isn’t your problem.”

“Not my problem?” Tony took a step forward. “Not my- you become my problem every time you put on that suit.”

“Yeah, and without it I don’t matter,” Peter said bitterly. 

“Wha-“ Tony spluttered. “What the hell has gotten into you? You’re being such a brat these days-“

“Yeah, well maybe you should’ve let me stay dead if all I am now is a thorn in your side.”

Peter couldn’t say he didn’t regret saying it as soon as he saw the hurt flash across Tony’s eyes. Any other emotion on the man’s face was quickly masked by anger. 

“What is this, some rebellious phase?” The man was bellowing now. “You’re on my last nerve with this teen angst you’ve got going on here and it needs to stop.”

Tony droned on and at first Peter thought the dizziness he felt was anxiety, but when it got worse and worse he began to worry. 

“Tony-“

“Nuh-uh, I’m talking, you’re listening,” his mentor snapped. “You’re acting like an entitled brat. You realize I didn’t have to give you your suit back, right? Hell, I didn’t have to make it in the first place. You should be thankful-“

“Mr. Stark-“ Peter tried again, his voice weaker as the dizziness neared its peak. 

“You’re being reckless, swinging around here ill-rested, someone is going to get hurt! I don’t know if you just hate me, or-“

“T-Tony...”

Peter’s voice trailed off and his knees gave out. He was barely aware of Tony catching him before he hit the floor, and gently laying him down on the gravelly roof. The man was saying something, maybe calling his name, but Peter could barely hear him as he entered unconsciousness.

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  


When Peter first came to consciousness, he didn’t want to open his eyes. He could sense that Tony was in the room, judging by the sound of the ever so slight arrhythmia he’d had since he performed the final snap. He also heard a second heartbeat, but couldn’t quite discern whose it was until he opened his eyes. He looked to his left and saw May sitting next to Tony, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 

“May?” Peter croaked. 

She looked over at him and scooted her chair closer, bringing a hand up to comb through his hair. 

“Hey, baby,” she said. 

“You didn’t have to come, I’m fi-“

“No, kid,” Tony interrupted, still not looking Peter in the eye. “You’re not.”

Anxiety pooling in Peter’s stomach, he watched as Tony stood and walked out, only to come back seconds later with Dr. Banner- who had recently been rid of the Hulk after using the Infinity Stones. Peter sat up a little. 

“Hi, Peter,” Bruce said. “It’s good to finally meet you properly.”

Peter grabbed the hand he held out and shook it. “You too.”

The doctor’s face fell. “I only wish it was under better circumstances.”

The anxiety returned to Peter’s stomach and he remembered where he was, why he was there. He looked at May, then at Tony, then at Dr. Banner, and they all had the same sad, scared expression on their faces. 

“What is it,” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“When you passed out,” Bruce began. “Tony brought you here and asked me to do an exam. I did some blood tests as well as a physical exam, and had FRIDAY do a full body scan.” The doctor sat down on a chair, pulling up the scans on a holo-screen. “You have several tumors throughout your body, Peter. Your liver, pancreas, prostate... They’re everywhere.”

Any breath Peter was holding was expelled from his chest all at once. Sure enough, when he looked at the scans, there were masses riddling his body. Peter’s eyes watered, but he willed himself not to cry just yet. 

“Let me start from the beginning, okay? I think I know what happened.”

Peter nodded anxiously, and waited for him to continue. 

Bruce cleared his throat. “You’ve always had an enhanced healing factor, right? Since you got your powers?” Peter nodded. “This allows for rapid cell reproduction, but your immune system is also enhanced, which allows it to fight off any precancerous cells. 

“When Thanos snapped his fingers, and you were dusted, your healing factor must have gone haywire. Tony said you were the last one to go on Titan, which gives me the thought that your enhanced healing was trying to reverse the damage as it was happening. Am I making sense so far?” Everyone nodded and Bruce continued. 

“When you came back, your cells were still in the midst of rapidly multiplying and repairing your body, when a normal person’s cells wouldn’t have even had the chance to begin. Your healing factor was kicked into overdrive and your immune system couldn’t keep up with it anymore.”

“Why didn’t he show symptoms earlier,” May asked. 

“He’s got a lot of stamina, is my guess,” Bruce hypothesized. “His body is stronger than other people, so it makes sense that it would take more progression than other people for him to be symptomatic.”

“What are we going to do about this,” Tony asked. 

Bruce let out a breath. “The truth is, I have no idea.” The lump in Peter’s throat doubled in size. “The tumors are definitely malignant, but they’re not like any type of cancer I’ve ever studied. Besides, even if it were, conventional chemotherapy drugs are made for conventional cancers in conventional bodies. Nothing about this is normal. Peter’s body is enhanced, which means that the disease is, too. None of the existing drugs will touch it.”

“Can we make something, then?” Tony was on the edge of his seat. “We’ve got to be able to synthesize something. I mean, we’ve made other medications for him before.”

“This… It’s different,” Bruce said. “Chemotherapy drugs have a much more complex structure than opioids or benzodiazepines. I can try, but… I really don’t know if there’s anything I can synthesize that’ll be able to make an impact.”

“But there has to be  _ something,”  _ May insisted tearfully, her hand reaching to grab Peter’s and squeezing tightly. 

Bruce looked between them, eyes sad and expression defeated. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then looked at Tony for help. Peter watched the man stand up and put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, nodding for him to follow Tony out of the room. May buried her face in her hands, trying to calm herself down. Peter tried not to eavesdrop on Tony and Bruce down the hall, but with enhanced hearing it was inevitable. 

_ “You’ve got to do something, Bruce,” Tony whispered angrily.  _

_ “Do what? Tony, you know as well as I do that-“ _

_ “We don’t know anything until we try,” Tony replied, and it sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth.  _

_ Silence ensued for a moment before Peter heard the sound of Bruce sighing. “Okay. I’ll talk with Dr. Cho and see what she thinks. But I still can’t promise anything.” _

A moment later, Tony reentered the room alone. May looked up at him while Peter only looked down at his lap. His mentor’s eyes still held irritation, anger, and Peter hated the fact that it made him feel guilty about something he couldn’t even control. 

“He’s not giving up,” Tony said. “There are still options we haven’t explored yet. He and Dr. Cho are working on it.”

May erupted into cries of  _ thank you, thank you so much,  _ while Peter only continued to stare downwards. Tony hugged Peter’s aunt, then left without saying another word. Something about it felt almost condescending. As if, even now, Tony were still hellbent on treating Peter like a child, as if he wasn’t old enough to understand. Well he  _ did  _ understand. He understood plenty.

Peter understood that he was going to die. 

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  


After that, Peter didn’t see Tony for a while. He went back home with May, who took as many days off of work as she could afford, then things went back to normal. There hadn’t been any word from Dr. Banner yet, and Peter almost dreaded the day that there would be. 

As much as he craved normalcy, things still changed. May told Principal Morita that he was sick and might need lenience on absences and due dates, and the man must’ve told all the teachers because they spent all day staring at him with sadness in their eyes- a look of pity Peter hadn’t gotten since Ben died. 

In turn, Peter found himself being forced to tell Ned and MJ, and, needless to say, it didn’t bode over well. He told them on a Sunday, at Ned’s house, over pizza and Star Wars. 

“So, uh… I have something I need to tell you guys,” Peter said anxiously, turning down the TV volume as the end credits of  _ Revenge of the Sith _ played. His friends turned to face him, and suddenly, nothing Peter had planned to say seemed good enough. How was he supposed to tell his best friends that he was-

“Peter,” MJ interrupted. “Just spit it out.”

The words sounded aggressive, but Peter knew what she really meant.  _ Just say it, you’re scaring me, please be joking around.  _

Taking a deep breath, Peter began to explain. He talked about the symptoms he’d been having, about his already insane healing factor, about what Dr. Banner said. Ned started crying almost immediately, but MJ only stared at him with a blank expression. He’d almost wished she would just cry right then and there, because he knew that she was just waiting to do so until she was alone. 

“I- It’s going to be okay, though,” Peter lied once all was said and done. “I’m gonna be fine.”  _ Liar _ . “I’ve got the top scientists in the country working on me-“  _ Even though they already told you it was hopeless-  _ “And I’m not going to give up, okay? It’s… It's gonna be okay.”

The last part was said tearfully, voice cracking and eyes moistening. Ned leaned forward until he was holding Peter in his arms, and then reached out to grab MJ and make her join in as well. They stayed like that for a while, and for a moment it felt like time was frozen. But Peter knew better. He knew that as they spoke, as they hugged, as they  _ mourned,  _ Peter’s cells were still mutating and multiplying and infecting his entire body. 

He wished he could freeze time. God, it was all that he wanted. To freeze this moment, hold onto his friends forever. 

But unfortunately, life had to go on. MJ left almost immediately after her friends released her from the embrace. May called soon after and reminded him of his curfew, and he gathered his things and headed home. Peter didn’t think he’d ever forget the look on Ned’s face when he closed the door behind him- the fear in his eyes, the furrow of his brow. 

Peter didn’t think it could get any worse than this. 

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  


It did get worse. 

Not right away. His symptoms were manageable, at first, just a nagging migraine and a general feeling of unwellness. 

But two weeks after the initial diagnosis, May received a call from Dr. Banner. He hadn’t hit a breakthrough just yet, but he wanted Peter to come in and try high dose chemotherapy. The idea made Peter sick to his stomach, made every hair stand on end, but he agreed. 

So on that Thursday morning, Peter didn’t go to school. He sent a text to Ned asking him to collect his classwork, then went with May to the tower. Happy was waiting by the doors, approaching their car to open Peter’s door, something the man had never done before. 

“How’re you feeling, kid?”

“Alright,” Peter lied. 

“I’m gonna go park,” May called from the driver's seat. “I’ll meet you up there.”

She drove off and Happy tapped his shoulder. “Come on, kid. Bruce is waiting for you.”

They ascended in the elevator until the doors opened, revealing the familiar sight and smell of the Medbay. It was quiet, mostly empty save for a janitor and a couple nurses. Happy led him down the hallway and into a room on the left where Dr. Banner stood inside, setting up an IV pole and pump. 

“Ah, there you are,” Bruce exclaimed. “Are you ready? Where’s your aunt?”

“She’s on her way up,” Happy answered for him. “I’m gonna go make sure she doesn’t get lost. You good on your own, kid?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Peter replied. 

Once Happy was gone, Bruce patted the chair next to the IV pole- a padded reclinable chair that had a retractable footrest. 

“Come sit,” he instructed.

Reluctantly, Peter approached the chair and lowered himself into it, putting his feet up. Bruce pulled out some supplies from a metal cart, opening some plastic packages with gloved hands and setting the contents aside. Peter watched anxiously, eyes fixed on the needle that would soon pierce his skin. 

“How bad is this gonna be,” Peter asked. 

Bruce froze for a moment, gently placing down the syringe he was holding and turning around slowly. He didn’t speak right away, taking off his glasses and looking Peter in the eyes. 

“Be honest,” the boy begged. “Please. Before May gets here.”

“The chemo?” Bruce clarified. “It shouldn’t be too bad. Honestly, it’ll be a miracle if it has any affect on you at all.” He paused. “The ‘cancer’ itself, on the other hand…” The man sighed, leaning on the cart behind him. “I use that term loosely, because it’s not  _ really  _ cancer. By definition, I guess it is- but it’s something… Something no one’s ever seen before. Something that shouldn’t exist. That being said, the fact that it had to progress this far for you to be symptomatic isn’t very comforting. All it means is that the worst is yet to come.”

Peter nodded tersely, moving to respond but being cut off by the sound of hurried footsteps coming down the hallway. 

“Oh, good,” May exclaimed upon walking in. “You haven’t started yet.”

“No, Ms. Parker, you’re just in time.” Bruce put his glasses back on, grabbing a pair of gloves. “I was just about to take Peter’s vitals.”

“So what can we expect from this,” May asked as the doctor secured a blood pressure cuff on Peter’s bicep. “Side effects? Progress?”

“There’ll probably be fatigue,” Bruce said. “Maybe some nausea, but I wouldn’t expect anything too extreme.”

“Is that… Is that a good thing?”

The doctor winced. “Yes and no. Yes, because it’s unlikely that he’ll suffer through the hair loss, mouth sores, or other trademark chemotherapy side effects. But this also means that it won’t be as effective in getting rid of the tumors.”

May’s eyebrows pulled together. “Oh…”

“If it’s not going to work,” Peter started. “Then why are we doing it?”

He tried to ignore the flash of emotion in his aunt’s eyes when he looked up to the doctor for an answer. 

“It’s… Well, Tony thought-“

“Tony,” Peter repeated incredulously. “Tony wants you to do this. Where the hell even is he?

“Peter,” May scolded. 

“No,” the boy said. “He doesn’t just get to put me through unnecessary medical treatment and not even show his face.”

“It might not be unnecessary,” Bruce said calmly. “It could help slow the progression, buy us some time to come up with a solution. This really is your best option, Peter.”

The boy sighed, all the fight leaving him at Bruce’s pleading gaze. “Fine.” He stuck out his arm. “Go ahead.”

Peter was never fond of IVs. The poke itself wasn’t too bad, but the feeling of foreign fluid going into his bloodstream was never fun. It was cold, so cold it would make him shake even when heated blankets were piled on top of him. 

Eventually, though, not even the cold could keep him awake anymore. The recliner was comfortable, as were the blankets, and once the fatigue set in, the boredom of being confined there lulled him to sleep. 

Upon waking, Peter noticed that his IV was gone. The lights in the room had been turned off, the curtains drawn, and an extra blanket put on top of him. Peter stretched, bones aching uncomfortably, and sat up. 

“Hey honey,” May said, looking up from her phone. “How’re you feeling?”

“Eh,” Peter groaned, licking his lips. “Do you have any water?”

May handed him a bottle and he thanked her, opening the cap and drinking greedily from it to try and get rid of the awful taste in his mouth. His stomach turned a little when the lukewarm water hit it, but it wasn’t anything terrible- just a general feeling of discomfort. 

“Bruce said that we could go home after you woke up,” May said. 

“Right,” Peter replied, pushing the blankets off of him and standing. 

His head throbbed at first, white dancing in front of his vision for a brief moment before clearing up. May was holding his jacket out to him and once he felt steady enough, he took it. 

The following weeks held something similar in store. Every Thursday morning, he and May would go to the tower for treatment. Sometimes he needed the next day off of school, but generally he was fine. 

So when Peter started shedding pounds like he was a lizard losing its skin, it was concerning. 

It wasn’t something he was conscious of. He hadn’t been vomiting or anything, although he supposed he’d been less hungry as of late. Peter wasn’t aware that he was getting thinner until MJ pointed it out to him at school. 

“You’re losing weight,” she pointed out to him when he sat down in first period. 

He chuckled. “Good morning to you, too.”

“No, Peter, seriously,” she said. “You’re getting thinner.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. 

She raised an eyebrow at him and moved to retort, but their lecture began before she could. 

As the day went by, Peter began to regret coming to school at all. It  _ was  _ a Friday, the day after an infusion, so he could’ve stayed home- and he probably would have, if he hadn’t had a test that day. He just needed to make it to Chemistry, then he could ask Happy to come get him. 

However, upon sitting down in Chem, taking his spot next to Ned and across from MJ, Peter could tell that there was no way he was making it through the period. Even so, the office seemed so far away, and staying in his seat seemed tempting- at least, until he looked at his test paper and found black dots dancing across his vision. Peter felt himself start to sway on his stool, and reached out a hand to steady himself. 

“Dude, are you okay?” Ned whispered when the taller boy grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie in a tight fist. “You’re, like,  _ really _ pale.”

Peter opened his mouth, feeling beads of sweat slide down the back of his neck. “Ned,” he gasped. “I- I don’t- I gotta-“

He tried to stand, but teetered sideways, ears beginning to ring. Peter could feel hands grabbing onto him, attempting to hold him up, then lowering him gently to the floor. For a moment, time didn’t exist. It passed slowly and quickly at the same time, sound and sight eluding him. 

“Peter? Can you hear me?”

Suddenly, everything flooded in at once. It felt like waking up, but he never  _ really  _ passed out. It was more like someone flipped a switch, turning his senses back on. He groaned, vision coming back into focus to show Mr. Harrington, Ned, and MJ leaning over him in an otherwise empty classroom. 

“You with us?” Mr. Harrington asked. 

“Mm-hm,” Peter groaned. “Where’d everybody go?”

“I sent them to the library,” the teacher said. “Do you think you can sit up? The nurse is on her way.”

Peter didn’t respond, only brought an arm to rest over his eyes, blocking the classroom’s bright, fluorescent lights, and helping to lessen the throbbing of his head and keep his tears at bay. The nurse arrived within minutes, pushing a wheelchair in front of her, a bag of other supplies hanging off her forearm. Once Peter pulled himself together, she and Mr. Harrington helped him into the wheelchair. 

“You can make up your test once you feel better,” the teacher said. 

Peter nodded wordlessly, avoiding the eyes of his friends while he was pushed towards the office. Luckily, the hallways were mostly empty at this time. Still, Peter couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, hugging his arms around his torso and keeping his head bowed. 

Once they got to the office, Peter wasn’t sure how long he lay there, the room spinning and swaying around him, his heart beating out of his chest. Eventually, he heard a familiar voice calling from the door. 

“You ready to go, kid?”

He opened his eyes and saw Tony standing in the doorway, sunglasses on, hands pushing the school’s wheelchair in front of him. The man wheeled it to the edge of the rock-hard bed and Peter slowly sat up and lowered himself into it, not making eye contact. When they reached the car, Tony reached out to help Peter in, but the boy swatted his hand away. 

“I’m fine,” he mumbled before practically falling into the backseat. 

“Shit, kid,” Happy exclaimed from the driver's seat. “You look like a ghost.”

“Thanks,” Peter replied. 

The drive to the tower was silent and tense. This was the first time Peter had seen Tony in  _ weeks-  _ since he was first diagnosed. The man hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t shown up to a single treatment. There wasn’t a doubt in Peter’s mind that the only reason Tony came to pick him up was because May couldn’t get off work on such short notice. 

Upon reaching the tower’s private parking garage, Happy parked right near the elevator. Peter moved to open his door, but the driver was quicker and opened it for him. Happy and Tony both stood by the open door, holding out their hands in an attempt to help. 

“I can get it,” Peter insisted, bracing his hands on the sides of the car door. Shakily, Peter tried to stand, but his knees immediately buckled underneath him. “Get off,” he tried to say when Tony caught him, but it came out as a whisper. 

“Let me help,” Tony said into his ear, holding the boy close. 

“I’m  _ fine,”  _ Peter whined, voice cracking. “I’m f- I’m-“

He cut himself off with a sob, letting his weak body fall limp once again. Tony grunted at the sudden weight, but caught Peter with ease and swiftly scooped him up so he was carrying his mentee bridal style. Peter grabbed Tony’s shirt in a white-knuckled fist, tears leaking from his tired, drooping eyes. The way Tony picked him up so easily… It was something the man shouldn’t have been able to do, not without a suit and not after his injury. Peter must’ve lost more weight than he thought. 

When Tony went to place Peter down on a Medbay bed, the teen wanted nothing more than to cling onto him and never let him leave. The warmth of Tony’s embrace was something Peter hadn’t felt in too long. 

“Tony,” Peter called when his mentor pulled away from him. 

“I’m here,” he heard in reply.

People bustled around the room, taking his blood pressure and oxygen level and collecting blood samples. An oxygen mask was strapped over his face while an IV was fixed in the crook of his elbow.

“He’s severely anemic,” Dr. Banner said. “His hemoglobin is  _ insanely  _ low. I’ll hook up a blood transfusion, but he needs further testing to figure out what the cause is.”

“Could it be from the treatment,” Tony asked. 

“It’s possible,” Bruce replied. “But it could also be internal bleeding, or something wrong with his spleen. I won’t know until I get some scans.”

They continued to talk, but Peter didn’t pay attention. He closed his eyes and willed himself to  _ actually  _ pass out, for more than a few seconds, but he wasn’t given that luxury. Eventually he was carted off and shoved into a scanner for twenty minutes. The whole time, he felt like he was in some limbo between awake and asleep- he was conscious, but his mind was too tired and sluggish to comprehend anything that was going on. 

Finally, Peter was situated in a room in the Medbay once more. He had two IVs- one for a blood transfusion and another for saline- and several wires and leads sticking to his chest to track his vitals. Tony was sitting next to him, holding Peter’s hand and flipping through TV channels. 

“May said she’s on her way,” Tony informed. “She just had to find someone to cover the rest of her shift.”

“‘Kay,” Peter replied,  _ finally  _ starting to feel a bit more like himself after the transfusion. 

There was a brief knock on the door and Dr. Banner stepped through, along with a few other people. Dr. Cho brought up the rear, her hair pulled back in a tight bun and a stern look on her face. 

“There’s good news and bad news,” she started. “The bad news is that the anemia was caused by bleeding in your stomach from the growth of a new tumor.”

Tony’s hand tightened around Peter’s. “And the good news?”

“The good news is that I can take care of it endoscopically,” she replied. “I should at least be able to stop the bleeding that way, if not remove the whole tumor. It’ll depend on what I see when I get in there.”

“If it’s okay with Peter, we’d like to start getting him ready for the procedure now,” Bruce said. 

Peter felt an anxious lump form in his throat. “But- May.” 

“She’s on her way.” Tony squeezed his hand again, then looked back at the doctors. “Is it okay if we wait until she gets here?”

“Not a problem,” Dr. Cho replied, and soon the room was empty again, save for Peter and his mentor. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you,” the engineer whispered, his prosthetic hand whirring as the thumb traced circles in the back of the boy’s hand. “I just…” he sniffed. “Thanos has been in my head for- for years. And I thought I finally got rid of him, but this… It feels like he’s still here, still taking things from me.”

A tear fell down Peter’s cheek. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Tony said, using a knuckle to wipe away the boy’s tears. 

“I’m  _ scared.” _

Peter’s voice wobbled, rising in pitch as he uttered the words. He hated the way Tony winced, the way he bowed his head for a moment, adam’s apple bobbing in a struggle to keep it together. 

“I know,” the man croaked, resting a hand on Peter’s head and combing his fingers through his hair. “I’m doing… We’re doing everything we can. Bruce and Helen and I are still trying to make a drug that’ll work for you, it’s just- it’s taking longer than we’d expected.”

Peter nodded. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole.”

“Don’t be,” Tony insisted. “Please. I know you’ve been having trouble adjusting. I should’ve been there.”

“You’re here now.”

Before Tony could respond, May barreled into the room, out of breath, clad in her nurse’s scrubs. “Oh, honey,” she gasped, hurrying to her nephew’s side. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“Ms. Parker, I’m glad you made it.” Doctors Banner and Cho re-entered the room, the former addressing Peter’s aunt. “We were just about to take Peter back for a procedure.”

They explained the procedure to May, who gave consent for it to be carried out. Then Peter was fixed with a net to cover his hair, and he was put to sleep. 

“We’ll be here when you wake up,” May promised, pressing her lips to his forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

  
  
  
  


——————————-

  
  
  
  


After passing out at school, it became apparent that Peter wasn’t well enough to keep attending full time. In early December, they decided that once the new semester began he’d only attend part time, prioritizing classes that were required for graduation. 

During Peter’s endoscopy, Dr. Cho had been able to resect the whole tumor, but she couldn’t promise that it wouldn’t come back. She and Bruce decided to increase his chemotherapy dose. The idea of radiotherapy was tossed around, but Peter’s body was already irradiated from the spider bite, so it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. 

Christmas was bittersweet. It was always Peter’s favorite time of year. The smell of gingerbread and hot chocolate and pumpkin spice made everything feel better. There was something about scouring the internet and the local shops for the perfect gift that brought a feeling Peter couldn’t quite place. The lights, the gray sky, the redness of wind-bitten cheeks after you spent too long outside. 

This year, however, the smell of sweets made Peter’s stomach turn with nausea, a symptom that had gotten worse since they’d decided to increase his treatments. He was too tired to do much anymore, struggling to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. He’d become undeniably jaundiced, his once ivory skin turning a sickly yellow. Aside from the difficulty his illness caused him in enjoying the holidays this year, there was one more thing on his mind. Something that went unspoken, but that he was sure everyone else was aware of, as well. 

This would most likely be Peter’s last Christmas. 

Though he spent most of his time in bed, the boy was rarely alone. Ned and MJ came over most days, and they watched movies and built legos and played video games. They were Peter’s saving grace, keeping his mind busy and keeping him company without treating him like porcelain. They came every day once winter break began and Peter moved into the tower for constant supervision. 

That is- until Ned had to go with his parents to visit family in Hawaii. After that, no one came for a couple of days, and Peter couldn’t help but feel hurt. MJ never said she was going anywhere, and she always expressed that she wasn’t very fond of Christmas anyway, so he thought she’d be able to continue to visit. Maybe he was wrong. 

It was on the twentieth of December that Peter decided to give MJ a call. She picked up on the second ring, and he could hear poorly masked anxiety in her voice when she said hello. 

“What’s up,” he asked. 

“Nothing.” Her reply was terse, void of emotion. He winced a bit, but brushed it off. 

“Are you… are you busy?”

“No.”

“Good,” he said. “What have you been up to?”

Her reply was once again cold and noncommittal. “Nothing, really.”

Peter frowned in frustration. “Then why haven’t you been coming over?”

The question was blunt, but it needed to be asked. MJ had been distant for some time now, but even more so since Ned left for vacation. She hadn’t even bothered to text him. 

The girl was silent for a moment. “I… I’m… I’m sorry-“

“I don’t want you to feel bad,” Peter replied. “Just… Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” She shouted in a panic. “No! God, no. You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

Once again, they were plunged into silence. Peter heard a quiet sniffle and felt his stomach do an anxious flip. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize for being angry, but she beat him to it. 

“I- I don’t have much luck when it comes to getting close to people. I hoped when I met you that things would be different, but-“ Her voice cracked and she sniffed again. “I’m sorry for ghosting you, I just- I’m scared. And I know how selfish that is, this isn’t even happening to  _ me-“ _

“Hey, it’s okay,” Peter interrupted. “You don’t have to apologize for being afraid. It’s not  _ selfish _ to be upset when your best friend is sick.” ( _ Dying.) _

“But you need support, and I just left you.”

“Yeah, and that was a little shitty,” Peter replied, “but if you need some time to process everything, that’s okay. I know you’d never  _ really  _ leave. Not for good.”

“Yeah.” She paused. “I miss you.”

Peter smiled. “I miss you, too.”

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

“Are you sure? If you need more time-“

“I’ve had plenty of time,” she decided. “Too much time.”

Sure enough, the next day, MJ appeared in the doorway of Peter’s room, nose red from the cold and snowflakes dotting her hair. She took off her coat and scarf and threw them on a chair, approaching Peter’s bed. 

“I got you a blueberry muffin from that bakery you like,” she said, pushing a paper bag into his hand. 

“Thanks,” he replied, grabbing it and putting it in his lap. 

She was quiet for a moment, then sat on his bed, crossing her legs in front of her. 

“Listen.” She looked at her lap. “I’m… This isn’t just hard because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone last night, so I…” With a pause, she looked up at him and Peter could see the pain swirling in her deep brown eyes. “I really- I really like you. And I wasn’t planning on- uh- on telling you. God, this is so awkward. I just wanted you to know-“

“I really like you, too.”

MJ’s rambling stopped, and for a moment they just stared at each other, both in shock. The words tumbled out of Peter’s mouth without him thinking. It was true, he’d developed feelings for his best friend a while ago, but he never planned on telling her. Especially now that he was dying. It wasn’t fair to her, because he was all too aware of the fact that after he was gone, the world would keep turning and Michelle Jones would keep living. She’d have to go on without him. 

“But I can’t,” he continued. “I can’t… MJ, I’m  _ dying.  _ It’s not fair to you-“

She looked down. “I know.” It came as a whisper, barely audible. “And I’m not gonna spew some  _ A Walk to Remember  _ bullshit about how everything happens for a reason. Because I don’t- It’s…” Her voice wobbled. “This is  _ really  _ shitty. But it’s reality. And I’m not going to spend the time I have left with you hiding my feelings, or not talking to you at all.”

Peter winced.  _ The time I have left.  _ There was so much he hadn’t done. He’d never get married. He’d never graduate high school. He’d never have kids. 

“Alright.” He cleared his throat, wiping a stray tear off of his cheek. “Enough of that. Do you wanna go ask May where the  _ Scrabble  _ board is? I think I can beat you this time.” He cracked his knuckles. “Not to brag, but I’ve been practicing.”

MJ laughed. “You’re on, Parker.”

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  


“We did it!”

Peter jumped at the scream, almost falling off the couch in surprise on that January afternoon. The sound of hurried footsteps boomed down the hallway while the boy clutched at his chest, still regaining his bearings after being startled. Tony and Bruce barged into the common room, out of breath, smiling wildly despite the prominent circles around their eyes. Peter and May both sat up from where they lounged, FRIDAY automatically pausing the docu-series. 

“We did it,” Tony repeated. “We made something that should work.”

May jumped to her feet. “You mean…” She trailed off. 

_ “Yes,”  _ Bruce exclaimed, bouncing on his feet a little.

Peter had never seen the doctor this excited before. Maybe it was the obvious sleep deprivation driving him a little mad, or maybe, just maybe…

“I’m not gonna die?”

All eyes in the room turned to him, and Peter could see the scientists wince a little at the hope in his voice. 

“We can’t guarantee anything,” Dr. Banner said.

“But now,” Tony interrupted. “At least you stand a chance.”

Peter’s first dose of the new drug was given on a cold morning. He brought his laptop with him to work on schoolwork, like he did during every infusion. However, when Bruce saw the notebooks filled with chemical equations, his eyebrows pulled together. 

“I’m not sure you’re gonna be doing much of that.” Peter went to argue, but the doctor continued. “This drug hasn’t been tested. There’s no telling what side effects it’ll have.”

Now that he thought about it, Peter looked at the cart that Dr. Banner had just wheeled into the room. On it was a defibrillator, an intubation tray, a few epi-pens, and several other devices and medications. Peter felt himself blanch, and Bruce must’ve seen it too, because he quickly moved to reassure him. 

“I’m only giving you a half-dose today, just to see how your body reacts to it. I’ll increase the dose a little bit each week until we find how much you can tolerate.” 

“Dr. Banner,” May piped in, forehead creased with worry. “Are you sure this will help? Are you sure it’s  _ safe?” _

“I’ll be here every step of the way,” he assured. “I’ll even stay with him during the night in case of some sort of delayed reaction.”

May smiled, but her voice was strained. “Thank you.” He left the room, then Peter’s aunt turned to him. “It’ll be okay, honey.” 

The way her smile didn’t meet her eyes took away all the comfort from the otherwise reassuring statement. 

When Dr. Banner came back in, Tony and Dr. Cho were behind him. Peter almost didn’t recognize them, because they were covered head to toe in scrubs, gowns, masks, gloves and face shields. 

“May,” Bruce prompted. “Can you come put on a gown and some gloves? I don’t anticipate there being any messes, but…” 

Peter stared at his aunt with wide eyes, and she looked between him and the doctors in alarm. Silently, she stood, wringing her hands while she followed Tony out of the room. He could still hear them as they spoke while walking down the hall. 

_ “Tony, just how dangerous is this treatment?” _

_ A sigh. “It’s not as dangerous for him, but… Exposure to the drug could kill the average person in minutes. It’s extremely toxic. If he even sneezes on you afterwards, we need to know.” _

_ “But- What if-“ _

_ “May you’ve got to trust me. There’s no other option.” _

_ This time it was May who sighed, a long-suffering exhale. “Okay. I trust you.” _

By the time they came back, Dr. Cho was almost finished setting up the infusion. It was strange that everyone else was decked out in armor to protect themselves against the drugs being pumped straight into Peter’s veins. 

“You ready, kid?” Tony’s voice was muffled from behind his mask, but Peter could see from the crinkles by his eyes that he was smiling. 

“I guess,” Peter replied. 

He wasn’t. God, there was no way he could prepare for this, the days that followed, the next several weeks. 

The first infusion wasn’t the worst. In fact, it provided a false sense of security for them all. The worst symptom he got from it was nausea, but his stomach had already been hurting for so long by then that he barely noticed. 

But as the weeks went on, things got worse. 

The vomiting, the diarrhea, the constant and relentless ache in his bones. Sometimes, his throat would hurt so bad he couldn’t even swallow his own saliva, instead spitting it into a bucket kept by his bed. Peter became so weak that he could barely stand anymore, and after a few weeks he noticed his hair becoming slightly thinner. 

During his days of confinement to a bed, all he could think about was the amount of crime going on in the city below, the amount of preventable deaths that people relied on Spider-man to stop. He thought about the schoolwork that was piling up, so much so that Mr. Morita sent him an email saying that he didn’t have any deadlines for his assignments, so long as he got them in before the end of the summer. 

_ If he even lived that long.  _

He thought about Ned, how he texted every day asking if Peter was up for a visit, but the boy always said no, which was only partly true. He also didn’t want his friend to see him like this, because he knew Ned would get upset. 

Then there was MJ. Who Peter hadn’t seen since early February, when she blew off school to provide support during her almost-boyfriend’s first full-dose infusion. Peter didn’t know why he let her come. He should’ve known that it wasn’t going to be a great experience for either of them, but maybe he just refused to acknowledge it because the need for comfort was more important to him at the time. 

When she entered the room, face obscured by a mask, Peter could see the uneasiness in her eyes. She clutched onto his hand most of the time, only rearing back when Peter began to violently retch into an emesis bag. They didn’t even  _ talk  _ most of the time, the boy being a shaking, sweating mess while she sat perched by his side, running a hand up and down his arm in some attempt to provide comfort. 

After that, Peter didn’t let her come over anymore. She only asked for the first couple of weeks, eventually taking the hint that he was never going to say yes. Seeing her dark eyes filled with so much fear and pain- it  _ hurt.  _ He didn’t want to see that again. More importantly, he didn’t want her to have to watch the person she loved waste away before her very eyes. Michelle Jones wasn’t stupid. She was a realist, and there was no way she didn’t know that Peter’s death was creeping ever closer. 

The only person who didn’t seem to want to accept what was happening was Tony. The man continued to smile, and was adamant that every excruciating side effect was proof that the treatment was working. 

“Some of the tumors are shrinking,” Tony exclaimed, pointing to various scans on his tablet. “This is  _ working,  _ Peter. You’re getting better.”

As much as Peter wanted to believe what his mentor was saying, he wasn’t so sure. It didn’t feel like things were improving- if anything, it felt like he was getting weaker by the day- but he hadn’t pointed it out. Tony was the last person around with hope in their eyes, and Peter didn’t want to see that go away. 

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  
  


In the last week of April, Peter had some more scans. He always hated full-body scans- the anxiety that surrounded the results, the claustrophobia while inside the machines… it all piled up to make the experience one of his least favorite things. 

This time, however, he was more nervous than usual. They all were, because two weeks prior, Dr. Banner recommended Peter take a break from treatment. 

“His blood counts are all out of whack,” Bruce said. “His immune system is too compromised. Taking a break is his best option, just until he stabilizes.”

Though the lack of treatment was anxiety provoking, it allowed Peter some much needed time to heal. He was able to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. With some help from Tony, he was starting to make a dent in his pile of schoolwork. He started eating a bit more, gaining back some of the muscle he lost. One day, he even went up to the penthouse for dinner with Pepper, Tony, Morgan, and May. Things finally didn’t seem hopeless. 

That is, until Dr. Cho read out the results of his scans. 

“Peter, have you been having any trouble breathing lately?”

His stomach did a flip. “No- I mean,  _ kinda?  _ I guess. Why?”

“There are a few metastases that showed up in your lungs on your scan,” the doctor explained. “There’s no need to panic- there was a chance this would happen, since things progressed quickly before your treatment started. I just want you to know what your options are.”

“I told you we shouldn’t have stopped treatment,” Tony spat angrily, and Peter bowed his head. “He would’ve been fine if we’d just continued.”

“No, he wouldn’t have,” Dr. Banner piped in. “I know that biology isn’t your specialty, Tony, but you should’ve seen his blood counts. He had a neutrophil count of less than three-hundred-  _ three-hundred,  _ Tony.”

They continued to argue, and Peter just sat back in his chair and waited. Tony had been doing this a lot lately- he seemed to believe that he knew best, and was urging the doctors to start up treatment again. 

“Boys,” May shouted, forehead creased and eyes severe. “Can we get back on track here?” She turned back to Dr. Cho. “What do you suggest?”

The doctor turned to face the boy in question, actually talking _ to  _ him instead of  _ about  _ him. “Well, Peter, your counts are much better now, and you definitely seem stronger overall, would you agree?” He nodded. “That being said, it would be safe to start treatment again soon-  _ however,”  _ she added as Tony opened his mouth to interrupt. “This also means that it would be safe to use surgical intervention to help, as well.

“So these are your options,” she said. “You can go back on treatment and hope that it takes care of the mets before they take over your lungs, or we can perform surgery to remove them and then start treatment after you’ve healed.”

“I think we should-“ Tony started, but Dr. Cho held up a hand. 

“I was talking to Peter.”

All eyes in the room turned to him, and suddenly the weight of everything became real. This whole time, Tony, May, Helen, and Bruce had been making the majority of his decisions for him. They were older, after all, and Peter figured that they knew better than he did. But now he was being prompted to make a decision- and an important one, at that- by himself. 

“I- Uh-“ he cleared his throat anxiously. “I think… We should probably do- surgery, right?” He looked to Tony for reassurance. “I mean… It would be more effective.”

“If that’s what would make you more comfortable,” Dr. Banner said. “We can definitely do that.”

Peter didn’t think that comfortable was the right word. There was nothing comfortable about either of his options. But the way Tony nodded at him in approval after he made his choice made him just a little less uncertain about it. 

When the time for surgery came, Peter was beyond nervous. He’d never had such a complex, open procedure before. As he was being prepped, his body being wiped down and each hand being poked by an IV, the panic finally began to set in. The entire time he’d been sick so far, Peter was just drifting through. He’d accepted the possibility of death long ago, but it had still always been conceptual. Now that his chest was about to be cracked open, it became  _ real,  _ painfully real. Just as they were about to wheel him behind a line on the floor that Tony and May couldn’t cross, Peter felt tears spring to his eyes. 

“Wait,” he squeaked, grabbing onto the rails of the gurney in an attempt to stop it. It stopped moving, and his family looked at him in worry. He tried to find the words to say, but nothing would come. 

“You can do this, baby,” May said softly, running a thumb down his cheek. 

He could do it, he knew that, but he didn’t  _ want  _ to. Didn’t want to have to. 

“It’ll be like blinking,” Tony assured. “You won’t remember a thing.” Peter still wasn’t convinced, and it must’ve shown on his face because his mentor continued, leaning his elbows against the railing. “When I got my reactor removed, it was one of the scariest things I’d ever done.”

“Mr. Stark, you’ve done so many scarier things. You fought aliens. You flew into a  _ wormhole.” _

“And you’ve fought aliens, too,” the man pointed out. “You’ve been to space. Hell- you’ve  _ died  _ before.” Peter winced. “Just because you’ve done scarier things doesn’t make this any less terrifying.”

“You don’t have to be brave all the time,” May said. “Superheroes can be afraid, too.”

A tear escaped Peter’s eye, falling down his cheek. He was sick of being brave. Sick of smiling when he didn’t feel like it, sick of feeling like he had to be positive and strong and inspiring for everyone else’s sake while he was going through hell. It wasn’t fair. He quickly wiped the tear away, then took a breath. 

“Okay. I’m ready.”

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  


Upon waking, the first of Peter’s senses to seep into awareness was pain. In a barely conscious attempt to alleviate it, the teen made his breaths as infrequent and shallow as he possibly could. 

“You’ve gotta breathe, honey.”

Peter opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, but he could make out the vague shape of his aunt next to him, holding onto his hand. He attempted to take a deep breath, but  _ whoa,  _ he wasn’t expecting the amount of pain he was met with. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, just slow down.”

Finally, the shock of the pain and the lull of the sedatives began to wear off. There was an oxygen cannula settled on his top lip, filtering cool air into his nose. May’s thumb traced circles in his palm, grounding him enough to be able to understand what Dr. Cho was saying when she entered. 

“I took out all of the mets, as well as the parts of your lung that they were touching, so you have a chest tube draining air and fluid. I don’t anticipate the mets growing back, especially if you can get back to treatment within the next couple of weeks.”

“Thank you, Helen,” May praised. 

With a nod, the doctor left, and Tony, who was sitting next to May, leaned his elbows against the bed. “You hear that, kid? You’re doing good. It’s going to be okay.”

Peter wasn’t sure why- maybe it was the anesthetic and opioids mixing together with the gross knowledge that a fucking plastic tube was sticking out of his chest- but he began to weep. It was weak, hesitant, and he was attempting not to heave the sobs that were bubbling up in his throat. 

“Honey,” May said. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m tired.”

Tony looked at Peter’s aunt with uncertainty, then reached out his prosthetic to grab his mentee’s hand. “It’s okay, bud, you can rest.”

“No, I’m  _ tired,”  _ he cried, voice only a whisper. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Mr. Stark swallowed. “Do what?”

“Treatment. I can’t do it anymore.”

There was a beat of silence, then Tony spoke in that sickly hopeful voice he always seemed to have these days. “I- Peter, you can't just-“

“It’s okay,” May interrupted, giving his hand a squeeze. Peter looked at her face, at her red, tear-filled eyes and her sad smile. “If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered. 

“Don’t be.” She sniffed, a tear falling down her cheek. “Once you heal up, we can… We can find a beach somewhere, get those bagels you like- the rainbow ones- and…” Her voice cracked. “Just enjoy the time we have left. Okay?”

Peter nodded. God, that sounded like the best thing ever. Getting out of the Medbay, finally feeling well enough to eat his favorite foods again, if only for a little while. He knew that whatever joy he’d feel would be short lived, but it was better than nothing. 

But when he looked back to Tony’s face, the man’s jaw was clenched, his eyes wide in some mixture of anger and horror. It looked like the man was about to either burst into tears, or start yelling. He was staring at May, who stared back with unwavering intensity. Their stare-off only lasted a moment before Tony stood and walked away. Peter turned back to May, who ran a hand through his hair. 

“Just go to sleep,” she instructed. “It’ll be okay.”

With a kiss on his forehead, she was gone. 

Peter tried not to eavesdrop once she caught up with Tony, but it was really inevitable at this point. The anger in his aunt’s voice was undeniable when she spoke. 

_ “Tony. Tony! You can’t just walk away from him!” _

_ “Walk away? You’re the one who’s giving up!” _

_ “Like hell I am! I’ve let you put my nephew through hell, through months of medical treatment that I knew probably wouldn’t even help.” _

_ “Don’t make me the bad guy here! I- The last time he died, I moved heaven and earth to bring him back. Everything I did was for Peter, you hear me? I didn’t care about the rest of the world when I did that. It was just about him. So excuse me if I’m not ready to throw everything away just yet.” _

_ “Oh, wake the fuck up, Stark. You think this doesn’t hurt me too? He’s my baby, the last family I have left. But he’s tired, Tony, and he deserves a choice. He deserves to rest.”  _

The conversation ended there, and May came back in. Peter closed his eyes before she entered, pretending not to have heard anything. Quietly, she sat down, and reached out to him again. Once their fingers were intertwined, he heard her begin to weep. 

  
  
  
  


—————————-

  
  
  
  


Tony didn’t come around much after that. 

Not when Peter asked for him, and May said she’d ask him to come by. Not when they removed the chest tube, and the teen could  _ feel  _ as the end of it snaked past his rib cage. Not even when Peter was nearly screaming in poorly managed pain. 

Peter could tell by day four post-operation that May was at her wits end. While she was forced to watch his decline, he had to watch hers, as well. He noticed when the dark smudges appeared under her eyes, when she started losing weight and sleep alike, when she stopped wearing makeup, or doing her hair like she always did. It was obvious when she took a leave of absence from work that every day, every moment of her time was being spent on him- and that was one of Peter’s worst nightmares. 

For a while after Ben died, it felt like a bit of May died as well. Peter knew how grief was and what it could take from a person, but for a while it was  _ scary  _ how different she was. But then he saw that light begin to come back. She went out with friends again, and she talked to the neighbors more like she used to. It was then that Peter made himself a promise that once she was ready to start dating again, he’d support her. Because May Parker deserved love, damn it- she deserved a family.

But now she had another setback. Yeah, the blip was pretty jarring- but even that was something they faced together, and the whole time May was all brave smiles and positive energy. This setback- Peter’s illness- was something that had  _ drained  _ her. 

The light was dying out again, and this time it was because of him. 

About a week after surgery, Peter was on the mend. His incision had been healing nicely, and the breathing exercises that Dr. Cho had given him weren’t so difficult anymore. 

“If you keep this up, you’ll be home within the week,” the doctor said while she drew some blood. “Have you guys thought about where you’ll go yet?”

He and May had been throwing around ideas for a vacation. Tahiti was on the table, but Ned was recommending they go to Hawaii. Part of Peter wanted to forego the whole beach idea and go to Paris, or maybe London. 

“We’re still not sure,” May answered. “There are so many places to choose from.”

“I was working in Japan before coming here to treat you,” Dr. Cho replied. “The cherry blossoms are beautiful there.”

Peter groaned. “How am I supposed to choose where to go now?”

May chuckled, running a hand through his thickening hair. “If it were up to me, I’d take you everywhere. Lord knows we could afford to with Tony footing the bill.”

That was the other thing- though Tony was seemingly refusing to talk to them, he’d promised May that he’d pay for them to go anywhere they wanted. As much as Peter appreciated the gesture, he didn’t want Tony’s money. He wanted Tony to  _ be there.  _

It was on a rainy evening in May that Tony came.  _ A New Hope  _ was playing on the TV while May was showering in the en-suite bathroom, and Peter was just about to fall asleep in the dimly lit room when he was started awake by the knock. Upon seeing his mentor and pseudo father standing in the doorway, Peter reached for the remote to turn down the volume on his movie. 

Tony cleared his throat. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Peter replied. 

There was a moment when neither of them spoke, Tony looking at Peter with hesitation in his eyes. Eventually, however, the man approached the bed and motioned for Peter to move. 

“Scoot,” he instructed. 

Peter did, and Tony got on the bed next to him, laying on his side so he was facing his protégé. He wrapped his arms around Peter’s torso, gently securing them together. 

“You know I’m trying, right?” Tony asked. “I’m… I'm doing everything I possibly can. I asked Scott for more Pym Particles so I could- I could do…  _ something.  _ I dunno, really. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Hank said no.” A sigh. “I asked T’challa and his genius sister for help, too. But they said that not even Wakanda has a cure for cancer.” Tony chuckled humorlessly. “Not that this is even  _ cancer  _ anyway. I’ve seen your biopsy reports. It’s…”

He trailed off, gently squeezing Peter even closer. The boy could feel Tony’s quick breaths against his hair, could feel the way his hands shook as they held onto him, fingers clutching onto Peter’s pajamas as if afraid he’d disappear. 

“I know,” Peter replied. “I know you’ve been trying, and… I’m really thankful, don’t get me wrong. But this isn’t something you can throw money at- or knowledge, or status, or connections. It  _ sucks.  _ It’s not like I  _ want  _ to die. But we’ve exhausted every effort. You can’t turn back time, Mr. Stark.”

At the remark, Tony stiffened. His hands suddenly stopped shaking and Peter swore he could actually hear his mentor’s heart skip a beat. The boy pulled away from him a little, looking at his face. 

“Turn back time…”

Peter could practically see the wheels turning in Mr. Stark’s mind, the way his eyes flitted around the room as if trying to catch a thought. 

“Tony,” the teen started, but the engineer was already moving to stand. 

“Turn back time!” Tony ran towards the door, eyes wild. When he got to the doorway, he turned around and pointed at Peter. “I’ll be back. Okay? I’ll be back soon.”

“But- Tony!” 

Peter shouted after him, but it was too late. The man was already running down the hallway. 

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  


It may have been nearly midnight, but Tony still dashed to the garage and jumped into his fastest car. He had an idea- possibly the only thing that could save Peter. His mind was running a mile a minute, everything so overwhelming that he almost missed the turn onto Bleecker Street. 

Within seconds, Tony found himself banging a fist on the door of 117A. After six or seven knocks, Tony was suddenly transported into the building, fist hitting nothing but air. He stumbled, then looked around at the seemingly empty Sanctorium. 

“What do you want, Stark?”

Tony whirled around, eyes resting on the figure of Dr. Stephen Strange at the top of the building’s staircase, clad in the same cloak that Tony had last seen him in. 

“Do you ever take that off,” Tony asked. 

“What do you want,” the wizard repeated. 

“I need your help.” The doctor crossed his arms.  _ “Please,”  _ Tony begged. “Please. It’s Peter. Spider-man.”

A whoosh of air, then Tony was sitting in an armchair in a different room. 

“I’ve noticed his absence around the city,” Strange said, pouring them each a cup of tea while Tony tried to regain his bearings. How the ever loving  _ fuck  _ did he get here?

“He’s dying.”

At the deadpan, Stephen paused in his motions, setting down the tea kettle. “What did you say?”

“He’s… he’s dying. He has some weird, mutated type of- Wait. You seem shocked. Why are you shocked? Aren’t you supposed to know everything?”

The sorcerer turned his body, shoulders squared in alertness and eyes intense. “Yes. I am. I haven’t been surprised by anything in a very long time.”

Tony felt himself blanch as the other man circled around him, grabbing books off of shelves. “Why are you so surprised by this, then?”

“Because it’s not supposed to happen,” the doctor replied. “Peter Parker isn’t supposed to die for several years.”

The statement should’ve made Tony happy- hopeful, even- but instead it filled him with anger. 

“What the hell do you  _ mean  _ it’s not supposed to happen? Of course it isn’t! No one should be sixteen years old and receiving a terminal diagnosis!”

“I mean,” the wizard started, slamming his book shut. “That in the past, when I’ve viewed alternate futures, there was  _ no possible reality  _ in which Peter Parker died at sixteen. It shouldn’t be possible.”

“Maybe you missed something.”

“I don’t miss things.”

They stood there for a moment, silent. Tony’s mind was once again racing, something he’d been having trouble controlling as of late. He was constantly shifting from brainstorming ways to save Peter, to budgeting how much money he had to spare to take the kid on the most extravagant vacations possible. He already had an email to Mark Hamill all typed out, waiting to be sent. While Tony’s brain was running out of control, Strange was twirling a finger in his beard, eyebrows pinched in thought. 

“I think…” The doctor began slowly. “I think I know what we have to do.”

Again, the scenery changed, leaving Tony stumbling when his feet landed on a cobblestone floor. The room was dimly lit, cold despite the torches along the walls. 

“Uh- Doc? What’re we doing in your dungeon? I mean I’m flattered, but-“

“This isn’t a dungeon,” Strange interrupted. “It’s a vault.” 

The wizard did a few of his fancy hand motions, some sparks flew out of his fingers, and then a section of the floor opened up. A stone pedestal arose from the hole, slowly scraping upward. On it was…

“You shouldn’t have that,” Tony gasped in a panic. He took a step back, bile rising in his throat as he felt the power radiating around the room. “How the hell do you have that?”

“Relax, Stark, it’s not the actual time stone. That would be impossible.”

“Then what  _ is  _ it?”

Strange stepped forward, using a hand to summon the thing forward, holding it between two fingers. Now that Tony got a better look, it didn’t actually look like the stone at all. Yes, it was the same color, and it radiated the same feeling that was seared into Tony’s brain after nearly dying, but it was different. It didn’t look like a solid at all, but some compact mass of… of  _ something.  _

“Before Banner crashed through my ceiling, I felt… an urge,” the wizard explained. “I wasn’t sure why, but it felt like the stone was telling me something. So I extracted a finite amount of energy from it, and stored it here.”

“So this has been here the whole time?”

“It has.” The doctor turned toward Tony. “I never knew why I did it. The whole time, this has been an unknown variable. So I left it here, in secret, out of sight and out of mind. I figured that it would become apparent when there came an emergency dire enough to need it.”

Tony held up a hand. “Hold on- Time out. I… I’d give anything to save Peter.  _ Anything.  _ But you said yourself all those years ago, that you wouldn’t hesitate to let him die for the sake of the stone. So… Are you really willing to use what little bit of the stone you have left on him? A random teenager that you don’t even know?”

With a sigh, Stephen deposited the energy into some sort of orb he had in his pocket. “Peter is anything but a random teenager.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t tell you everything, but there will come a day when the world needs Peter, needs Spider-man. Part of my duty as Sorcerer Supreme is to protect those who are essential to the order of the fate of this realm.”

Tony felt pride swell within him, so much pride and relief that he could cry. “Thank  _ fuck,  _ Strange.”

The sorcerer looked at him warily. “Yeah. Okay.”

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  


Just as the end credits of  _ A New Hope  _ began to roll, Peter saw the familiar sight of golden sparks in the air. A hole opened in the very fabric of space, the sound pulling May from the nap she was taking on the futon by the window. 

“What the  _ fuck?!”  _

May’s eyes were wide as saucers when Tony stepped through the portal, none other than Dr. Stephen Strange coming in behind him. 

“Mr. Stark- What- What’s going on?”

“Mr. Parker,” Dr. Strange started. “I heard you were sick, and I brought something to help.”

With a flick of his fingers, a small metal ball emerged from his pocket, and it opened to reveal the time stone. 

_ “Tony,”  _ Peter gasped in horror. “What- Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Strange said. “I can use the energy I saved from the stone to slow- or maybe even freeze- the progression of your disease.”

Peter gaped at them. He looked at May, whose mouth was also open in silent shock, then back to Strange. 

“So… this can cure me?”

“Yes.”

“But- If this thing can cure me, can’t it cure… Everything? I mean- why aren’t you sharing this with other people?”

“There isn’t enough of it,” Tony informed, looking somewhat regretful. “He was only able to save so much energy before the time stone was destroyed. This is all we have.”

Peter shook his head vigorously. “No. Nope. I’m not taking it.”

“ _ Peter _ ,” Tony scolded. 

“No! There are plenty of people who need this more. Kids that are younger who are sick, too. There are so many people more deserving and if they can’t get it, I shouldn’t either.”

“Some day in the future,” the doctor said in a low voice. “The fate of the world will rest on your shoulders. You’re not  _ supposed  _ to die, not now. The world needs you.”

Peter’s stomach flipped. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? He thought back to their time on Titan, how Dr. Strange had been adamant that he’d rather sacrifice anything than give up the stone, but when the time came, he gave it away just so Thanos would spare Tony’s life.  _ Because Tony was needed,  _ Peter’s mind supplied.  _ He created time travel. He helped retrieve the stones from the past. He snapped his fingers to save the world.  _ Could Peter really be that important one day?

“Okay,” Peter said, voice cracking with emotion. “Okay. Do it.”

As May began to grill Tony and Dr. Strange about what the hell was going on, a few tears escaped the kid’s eyes. It wasn’t fair in the slightest that Peter had to carry this burden. The knowledge that he’d one day be as important as Tony- that was almost too much. Dying almost seemed more appealing, as selfish as it was. The truth was that as scary as death was in the beginning, the prospect started to provide comfort after a while. It was a relief to know that the pain wouldn’t last much longer. Apparently, superheroes weren’t granted that luxury. 

Within an hour, Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner were briefed on the situation as well. The adults threw ideas back and forth of how to get the stone’s energy into Peter’s body effectively, so it only targeted the mutated cells and left the healthy ones alone. 

“I can manipulate the energy,” Strange said. “The same way I used to manipulate the stone.”

“But how can you be sure,” Tony pried. 

“I’m sure because I’ve done it before.”

“Tony, you seem awful worked up over this,” May pointed out, resting a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. “What’s going on? I thought you wanted this.”

“You don’t know how powerful these stones are. You don’t- The sheer amount of energy in one stone is incomprehensible. It’s…” He began to pace. “If we can spare him from that, I don’t want him going through it.”

“Stark,” Strange said sharply, forcing Tony to stop walking and look him in the eye. “I know you’re not used to not being the smartest person in the room, but, contrary to popular belief, I know what I’m doing. So if you’d be so kind as to allow me to do my job as both a doctor  _ and  _ protector of this realm, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Peter watched Tony clench his jaw. He still looked uncertain- afraid, even- but he agreed nonetheless. Strange stepped towards the bed, removing pillows and placing them on a nearby chair. 

“Lie down, and we can get started.”

Peter kay flat on his back. It felt like he was about to have some religious ritual performed on him- May, Tony, Bruce, and Dr. Cho stood around him while Dr. Strange held his hands above Peter’s body. 

“What… What are you doing,” Peter asked. 

The doctor dropped his hands, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. “Tuning in with both your physical and astral forms to find the source of the disease and the extent of its progression.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Strange closed his eyes and focused once more. Peter paid close attention to what was going on, but he wasn’t feeling any different. Not yet. Eventually, the doctor leaned back, and reached back into his pocket to grab the orb that held the stone’s energy. His hand also emerged holding a necklace- one that was rounded, gold,  _ familiar-  _ and allowed the energy to be encased inside the necklace. 

“You might feel some discomfort,” Strange said. “Try to stay calm and let it happen.” May moved to grab his hand, but Strange stopped her. “I don’t suggest touching him until I’m done.” May nodded, taking a step backwards. “Okay, Peter. One, two…”

Peter didn’t hear number three. It wasn’t  _ painful,  _ per se- at least not at first- just an indescribable sensation that ran through his abdomen, spreading to his chest. By the time the feeling spread to his arms, legs, and head, it turned into something different. It felt like- like-

“I- Stop,” he gasped. “Stop- I don’t want-  _ I don’t wanna go!  _ I- Sir!”

“Strange, he said to  _ stop-“ _

“Calm down, Stark. Just a few more seconds, Peter.”

It took every ounce of self control for Peter to hold in a scream. While it still didn’t  _ hurt,  _ the feeling was way too similar to how it felt to have every molecule ripped apart until he was nothing but a pile of dust. It was panic inducing, and when it went on for more than a few more seconds Peter came to the conclusion that this was it. 

He was dying. 

“And… We’re done!”

All at once, that horrible feeling went away. Peter was soaked with sweat, staring at the ceiling and gasping precious air as if he were being deprived of it. 

“Baby,” May gasped, wrapping an arm across his torso and holding him to her chest. Tony sat next to her, wrapping his arms around them both and completely engulfing Peter in warmth. “Honey, it’s okay. It’s over.” 

The cries that fell from Peter’s mouth were quick and frantic, because though the physical feeling of fading away had gone, the panic stayed. May rocked him a little, hushing him like a child. 

“He needs a PET scan to confirm the regression,” Strange said. “And he should continue to get scans every month. If anything grows again, call me.” He opened a portal, stepped through, and looked back. “Good luck, Mr. Parker.”

And with that, the man was gone.

“You did it, buddy,” Tony whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Just rest. You’re okay.”

  
  
  
  


——————————

  
  
  
  


The improvement was  _ immediate.  _

Once Dr. Strange was gone, Peter slept. He slept for almost twelve hours, but when he woke up, he was… refreshed. He felt strong. 

Sure enough, when they took him for a scan that day, the tumors that were once overtaking his organs were  _ tiny.  _ Teeny-tiny. Not completely gone, but so small that they weren’t causing any symptoms whatsoever. Within days, Peter’s skin and eyes turned back to their normal color, no longer jaundiced. He started getting out of bed and doing physical therapy to regain the muscle he’d lost. Finally, he could shovel down forkfuls of food like he used to. 

“I think… I think you can go home, Peter,” Dr. Banner said a couple of days after Strange left. “Besides being a bit underweight, there’s really nothing wrong with you anymore. Your blood counts look great, your scans are incredible, your bilirubin is back in normal range… You’re  _ healthy,  _ Peter.”

May let out a whoop and Tony wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulders. Peter was frozen in place, because holy shit this was a lot to take in. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry from relief, or from guilt, because there was still this nagging voice in his head telling him that he didn’t deserve this. 

Regardless of his reaction, or lack thereof, May and Tony still made quick work of packing up his things. The various blankets and pillows he’d accumulated, the picture frames he brought there with him, all of the clothes he brought- which were all just the same pair of pajamas in different colors. Peter  _ walked  _ into the elevator, because he was miraculously strong enough to do that now, and they went up to the penthouse. When the elevator doors opened, it was dark inside until…

“Surprise!”

The lights switched on and the room was full of people- Ned, MJ, Rhodey, Happy, and Pepper all stood with smiles on their faces. Morgan was sitting on Happy’s shoulders, raising her hands into the air in delight. Everyone looked at Peter expectantly, and he plastered an insincere smile onto his face. 

“I- Wow, guys, I-“ He spluttered. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“Alrighty, then,” Tony said, clapping his hands together. “Music, FRI?”

A playlist of Peter’s favorite songs began to play, and he was pulled further into the room while people began to mingle. 

“I told Thor the good news,” Tony said. “He said he wanted to come, but that there was something he and the Guardians were busy with.”

“That- That’s fine,” Peter replied. “You know… You really didn’t have to do this.”

The man’s eyebrows pulled together. “Do you not like it? I can tell everyone to go home.”

Peter looked around. Ned had Betty with him, and they were conversing with Rhodey with wide, amazed eyes. MJ was talking with Pepper- whom Peter knew had been the girl’s idol for years. Morgan was with Happy by the snack table, who was in the middle of a conversation with May- and he must’ve said something funny because Peter’s aunt threw her head back in laughter. They all looked so happy, so carefree. The constant tension that had been clouded over them all for months was gone, and Peter didn’t want to take that away from them. 

“No,” he decided. “Let them stay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

Tony went to spend some time with Pepper and Morgan, and Peter continued to observe the party until he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

“What’s up, dork,” MJ asked when he turned around. 

“Uh- Good. I mean- Nothing. Just watching.”

“You look good,” the girl pointed out. “It’s nice to see you looking like yourself again.”

The boy tried not to wince. “Yeah. Thanks.”

MJ swallowed. “I, uh… I don’t know if you’re feeling well enough yet, but do you wanna come back to decathlon practice? It’s the same day and time as usual this summer.”

“I’ll try,” Peter replied. “I mean, I’ve got a ton of work to catch up on. I didn’t exactly think it would… it would  _ matter  _ if I got it done or not, so I haven’t really been doing work for a few weeks.”

“Oh. Okay. Let me know if you need help with it.”

“Will do.”

Before long, people started filing out and going home. While Pepper put Morgan to bed, May and Tony started cleaning things up. Peter offered to help, but they insisted against it since this was supposed to be his “special day.” After the guests had gone, MJ hung back. 

“Are you okay?” She sat next to him on the couch. 

“Uh- Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

“You seem quiet.” She scooted a little closer. “You almost seem more depressed than you were when you were dying.”

His cheeks heated up. “I’m not…  _ depressed.  _ I’m happy. I should be happy.”

“There’s no right or wrong way to feel. Especially in these  _ special  _ circumstances.”

“I guess…” He hesitated. “This doesn’t feel right. I was  _ supposed  _ to die, MJ.”

The girl furrowed her brow. “But Dr. Strange said-“

“I know what he said,” Peter interrupted. “I just- There are so many people who needed this more than me. I’d accepted death, I was fine with it. But what about all those kids who aren’t?”

“Peter, people die every day,” MJ said. “I know that you feel like you’re somehow responsible for everyone, but you’re not. You’re sixteen, you should be worried about learning to drive, and doing homework, and the decathlon.” She paused, averting her eyes. “Or…  _ maybe…  _ Getting a girlfriend. Maybe even taking her on dates.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” She put a hand on his knee. “I don’t want you to feel bad for that. Not when you already make yourself feel bad enough for things you can’t even control.” She stood, grabbing her bag. “Just let me know when you’re ready for a relationship, okay? Or if you just… I dunno, need to talk or something.”

She started to turn to leave, but quickly turned back and pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Both of their cheeks burned pink as she offered a tight lipped smile, then dashed to the elevator. 

Peter was startled by a whistle coming from behind him. 

“Congrats, kid,” Tony said, approaching the couch. “It’s about time one of you made a move. FRIDAY? You got a video of that?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Tony,” Peter whined. 

The man only laughed, plopping down on the couch where MJ had sat. He leaned forward, getting a look at Peter’s face. 

“Okay,” he started. “What’s going on with you? I thought you’d be happy about this.”

“I am happy, I am. I just- I-“ He groaned in frustration, leaning his head back on the couch and looking up at the ceiling. “Everything was so much simpler when I was dying.” He heard Tony’s breath hitch, but continued. “I mean- I knew what my future held. I was perfectly fine with dying, I really was. I mean, the world went on without me before. But now I’ve gotta turn in all this school work, I have to get healthier so I can patrol again, I’ve got to worry about college, and school, and friends- and now Dr. Strange is saying I have to save the world? That’s-“ His breath got caught in his throat, and he sat up, looking at his mentor. “This is too much. It’s all too much. I know it sounds selfish but I- I don’t  _ want  _ to save the world, Tony. I mean…”

Peter’s eyes drifted down to the man’s prosthetic arm, and he blushed in embarrassment and guilt before quickly looking away. Tony must’ve caught his glance, though, because he let out a humorless chuckle. 

“I know,” he said. “To be honest, I didn’t want to save the world either. I just wanted to save you.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Tony sighed. “I realize that it may have been…  _ comforting  _ to have an end in sight. I mean- you’ve been through a lifetime of trauma and loss in the few years you’ve been alive. It’s not fair, but it’s all you know. So yeah, I see how it can be scary knowing that not only do you have to stay alive for a little while longer, but you also have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders while you do it.

“But do you remember what May said when you told us you didn’t want anymore treatment? She said that you’d just have to make the most of the time you have left. And that sounded nice to you at the time, but guess what? This means you have  _ more  _ time left to make the most of. In between all the Spider-manning and world-saving, you can see the  _ world.  _ You don’t have to choose between Tahiti or Paris anymore. You can do both. 

“There’s so much out there, kid. For all the loss and the grief and the pain, there’ll be even more happiness and beauty and celebration.”

“But how do you know,” Peter cried. 

Reaching an arm out and pulling his kid close, Tony replied. “Because all those years ago, when Pep and I were on a break, and Steve almost killed me, and the Avengers fell apart… I found you.” Peter looked up at him with tears in his eyes, and Tony continued. 

  
  


“And  _ holy hell,  _ was it worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: *IMPORTANT*  
> okay, so to start off, i’ve been working on this for MONTHS. i don’t have a beta, and i can only proofread so many times before i go nuts so there will be mistakes.  
> second, there are a lot of allusions to cancer in this fic, which *SPOILER ALERT* essentially what peter has, but i took the fact that his entire biological makeup is different and ran with it.  
> i’ve never had cancer before, but i’ve had family and friends who have. and i tried my best to write this without glorifying the illness, because it’s truly nothing to be glorified. i just heard about the headcanon that peter’s healing factor was what made him take so long to turn to dust, and that turned into this.  
> though i’ve never had cancer before, i have a lot of experience being in hospitals and such because i’m chronically ill. i’ve had some really freaky experiences, tests, and treatments, so i’m kinda channeling that into this.  
> that being said, i REALLY exaggerated that his body operates completely differently than normal peoples, so this will most likely be vastly different from any experience cancer patients have. because i just want to exaggerate here: in this story, he doesn’t have cancer, per se- but some weird ass mutated type of malignant tumor growth that was inspired by something i learned in my biology class.  
> thank you for reading!!!


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